


Too Late

by orphan_account



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Non Consensual, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stabler goes undercover to determine if a recent parolee is reverting to his rapist urges. When Elliot "befriends" him, things get seriously out of hand. Remix of episode 7x01: Demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Late

Elliot's kneeling between the girl's jean-clad legs. Legs he spread himself. The look of horror on her face, mixed with the tears and the snot is almost more than he can take. He disgusts himself. Ray stands over Elliot and the girl on the mattress, looking on expectantly, waiting for his show to begin.

“I-I can't do this with another guy watchin' me. Messes with my performance.”

Elliot manages to affect a winning grin that says 'hey, we're on the same side here.' The girl resumes her squirming with renewed effort. He has to grip her thighs in tight hands to hold her down. He was sure he was making bruises.

Ray didn't look too pleased with the idea. But he was feeling generous today and was willing to compromise. After all, Elliot had become his friend over the past few months. He could trust him.

“Tell ya what, I'll let you get started on you're own 'cause I gotta go take a leak anyway. But I get to watch the rest...Or else you'll be making good friends with the bullets in my gun here. Got it?”

He pulled a pistol from his coat pocket, clicking the safety off and on. Through her gag, the girl lets out a terrified squeak and new tears run down her ruddy face.

“Yeah,” Elliot says cockily. “I got it.”

With another grin thrown Ray's way, Ray walks to the bathroom that's located in a tiny office just behind them. Elliot would have told the girl to run to the gate once he opened it, but there was a huge plate glass window that they could easily be seen from. He just might have to take that chance though.

He lays his body over the girl's and whispers in her ear, “Don't worry. I'm a cop. I'm. a. cop.”

She lets out a tiny sigh of relief.

“See that gate over there?” he asks. She nods. “When I take your gag off, I want you to scream like I'm hurting you and then we run, OK?” She nods again.

Elliot takes a corner of the duct tape in his hand. Like a Band-Aid, he tries to convince himself. After a count of three in his head, he makes to yank it off. They would only need thirty seconds, then she would be free. She'd be free and OK, free and—!

“'K Elliot, warm up's over. Time for the show.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Time. He had to stall.

“I don't know, man, I'm not even hard yet. She's just not doin' it for me. Not my type I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Ray asked. He pulls out his gun and clicked the safety off again. “Is she your type now?”

Shit. Now I'm just making him fucking angry. Shit.

“OK, OK, I got it.” 

He chokes. 

Ray unfolds a metal chair and props it up near the mattress. In that moment, Elliot knows he is shit out of luck. To make a run for it now would be like asking Ray to please shoot him in the head so that he can personally rape this little girl; to go through with this makes him this girl's rapist. Him. A cop. Somebody that people are supposed to trust and look up to. Something about the lesser of the two evils flashes through his head, and he feels like he's gonna puke.

“Elliot, my patience is running out. Either you do it, or I do. But you better make your decision quickly.”

The girl pleads with him with her tearful blue eyes. Kathleen has blue eyes. Kathleen has blonde hair, too. This is someone's daughter. Fuck. He reaches for his belt buckle, and the girl's tears start over fresh. He pulls down his zipper and imagines that he's anywhere else. He swiftly pulls down his boxers (No need to drag this out, he tells himself) and closes his eyes. Elliot takes his soft dick in his hand and wills it to come to life. Shit, anything will do. He conjures up every fantasy he's ever had about Kathy: fucking in a movie theater, toying with hot wax, sexy lingerie, sex toys, a stripper pole in the bedroom. His dick twitches at that idea. Stroking himself, he pictures Kathy in something lacy and red, rubbing her ass and her tits over the shiny silver pole like she was made for it. She's doing some kind of racy dance he's only ever seen in strip clubs. He's sitting on the edge of their bed, and his jeans are becoming painfully tight in every good possible way. He licks his lips and strokes faster, forcing himself to stay in the fantasy and ignore the sobs of the girl and the sick slapping noises he and Ray are making as they beat off. In his mind, Kathy starts crawling towards him, her breasts practically spilling out of her bra. His mouth waters as she runs her hands over his taught thighs before unzipping his jeans and tugging aside his underwear. Her mouth is a warm, welcome heat...

“Now, Elliot. Stick it to her, the dumb slut,” Ray says with a moan.

Elliot's eyes snap back open and looks down at his hand. His dick is hard and throbbing red against it. Pre-come has oozed out to drip on and over his hand to pool on the crotch of the girl's jeans. His stomach rolls in a sickening fashion. He squeezes himself at his base to keep his erection from flagging. It would be no good having to start over again. And, doing it before he loses what little nerve he has, he reaches for the girl's button and fly, and she screams against the duct tape he never had the chance to take off. He takes a small comfort in not having to listen to her voice on top of everything else. Pulling off her jeans is no easy feat. He wants to hurt her as little as possible, but this is a rape—there's no other word for it—and he can't afford to be gentle, no matter how badly he wants to be. The last barrier between them is her panties. He shakes his head and pulls them off too.

Taking himself in hand again, he finds himself to gone a bit soft. He stalls for a few more milliseconds by giving himself three more tight jerks before lining himself up. Before entering her, he meets her eyes again, asking for her permission. And fuck if that's not messed up. He is begging her with his eyes to please, please, please forgive him, that most men aren't like this, aren't into little girls, that he's not into little girls. She looks at him through wet lashes and gives him an almost imperceptible nod of her head. He thrusts in roughly and deliberately tunes out her screams. And fuck, she's tight. Of course she is. You just took her fucking virginity, you dumb bastard. Elliot gives her a fraction of a second to adjust to his size because he's obviously going to be much bigger than anything she might have experimented with at home. And he can't look in her eyes anymore, too ashamed and sick, giving her the decency to suffer without her rapist watching her. He knows what to do to speed this up for them, what he always does with Kathy, no matter how they start off a sexy evening. He moves from his kneeling position and lays himself over her body, hooking his arms under her shoulders so that his hands grip them. He presses his face to the side of her neck and whispers a small, “I'm sorry.”

Elliot pants roughly against her ear as she inadvertently clenches her muscles around his shaft. She's so tight it's almost painful and the clenching in nearly unbearable. A few more times of that, and he knows he'll be through.

“Do it again,” he begs her. “Please. Just keep squeezing your muscles.”

Through her tears and moans of pain, she obeys him. He grunts loudly each time she does it, gritting his teeth and breathing heavily through his nose. A few more times and the edge of his vision gets hazy. God, he's so fucking close, and he swallows roughly to keep his lunch down.

“Again. Do it again. Come on, sweetie, please. Almost over. Almost over. I promise,” he pleads.

He's never felt more like a liar in his life. This isn't 'almost over.' The pain and suffering and fear she is experiencing now is just the beginning. She'll need years of therapy and support from family and friends. And God help her with the love life he ruined in just ten minutes of fucking. She must believe him though because the next time she clamps down on him, he knows he can't hold it back anymore, and a dissatisfied groan leaves his mouth while he pulses into her warm body.

Distantly, Elliot hears Ray's animalistic noises become louder and louder as his orgasm dissipates, and he comes back to this disgusting reality. Elliot watches in horrible fascination as Ray jerks himself four more times before he, too, reaches completion. A stray jet hits Elliot on the side of the face, and he knows that he utterly deserves it as it slides down his cheek and under his collar to pool in the divots the skin over his clavicle makes.

Carefully Elliot pulls out of the girl's body, not wanting to cause more damage than he already has caused her. A blissed out Ray milks his cock for those last few drops of come, and Elliot finally, finally sees his chance. In his unguarded state, Ray has carelessly let his pistol fall from his hand to the floor. Elliot lunges for it before Ray even notices that it was no longer held possessively in his left hand. Standing up abruptly, Elliot puts himself between Ray and the girl.

“Get dressed,” he tells her. “We're getting out of here.”

With trembling hands she reaches for her discarded clothes and shoes. Elliot rebuttons and rezips his own jeans.

“Hey, Ray!” Elliot yells.

The shaken girl nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of his voice. Luckily for him, Ray does the same. 

“Shit, Elliot, that was quite a perform—!” His pleasure-slitted eyes jump open to stare at the weapon that is trained on him.

“You just messed with the wrong cop, you motherfucker.”

Without anymore preamble, Elliot shoots him in the kneecaps, shattering the bones completely.

Howling in pain, Ray collapses onto the defiled mattress, blood spilling from the place where his knees used to be.

Elliot grabs the girl's hand protectively.

“Run!” he shouts, pressing the gate button on their way out.

But the girl can barely keep up on her trembling colt's legs. Elliot pauses just inside the gate to pull the tape off of her mouth and from around her hands. When the huge door lifts itself up, they are met with flashing blue and red lights from several police cars that had come to rescue them. The child runs instinctively to the first woman she sees: Olivia. Sobbing, she presses her face into Olivia's shoulder who looks at him with questioning eyes.

“Are we too late?”


End file.
